Familiarity
by MadmanTobz
Summary: What happens when both Ichigo and Aizen end up unconscious in Pieta, shortly after the massacre? What will they do when they wake up and meet the "survivors"? The Hogyoku chooses a new host, what does this mean for the survivors of Pieta? ("Lots" of future pairings, already decided. Eventual adult content.)
1. Transcendance

A/N: This first chapter is purely a prologue that is necessary to set up the actual premise of the story, my apologies if it's bad.

There is a lot of information that I can't give in the prologue, that is why this chapter offers so little. As I said, this is just to set up the premise.

**I will warn you now: **This story will focus a **lot** on the characters, and the road they walk rather than the overreaching plot and the goal they'll reach. I'm only clarifying this so that you won't be surprised that there are chapters who are slice-of-life-ish. There **is** a "bigger" plot, there will be action, but if you're just looking for pure action, or something with a mind-blowing plot, this is probably not your cup of tea.

Also, despite what this chapter makes it seem like, this story won't be strictly written from Aizen's POV. It will change between different characters. Even though this particular chapter is in Aizen's POV, it's just as much about Ichigo, and they are both main characters.

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**Chapter 1: Transcendence.**

**Outskirts of Karakura Town, ~110 years ago.**

Under the protection of the night, a number of cloaked figures gathered. Holding information they should not originally be aware of in their hands, they waited only for their leader to open the rift which would save them from the consequences of their theft. Any second sooner is another second in which their lives are not at immediate risk. They did not wait for long, as the leader too, was anxious to leave.

A rift is opened, the cloaked men pass, and it closes. Now, finally they were safe, and could begin their plans in a world uninfluenced by the Shinigami.

**Same Location, Present Day.**

A wall of pure black darkened the land; a newborn canyon carved its way through the earth and a sound too great for the ear to perceive deafened those close enough to hear it.

"**Mugetsu." **The single word that is spoken before the landscape itself was reshaped.

The absence of both sound and vision lasted only for seconds before evaporating into nothing, unlike the single entity it had come down on.

Aizen Sousuke_. _

Nowa deity even amongst gods, cut in half by the sole being standing higher on the pedestal of existence, Kurosaki Ichigo.

As the victor landed somberly on the ground, dark bandages fading from his body, the remaining halves of Aizen Sosuke land a distance away.

_"Impossible! How could he possibly have surpassed me? A mere human?" _I can feel myself be revived even before my body collides with the ground. I lay for but a few seconds before my body merges back together into one form. Opening my eyes, I see Kurosaki sink to the ground, his powers fading with the wind. Feeling my powers beginning to return, I stand up.

I take a breath and compose myself before turning my gaze back onto this human whom had managed to reduce me to such a weakened state.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, you have lost."

"Behold." I sense my zanpakuto slowly crumble from existence.

"My zanpakuto is disappearing. You should understand what that means..." Those eyes still defy me. I can see in them that he understands my words, yet they hold confidence as if I had already lost. I have seen those aggravating eyes before.

_That_ man.

"The Hogyoku has decided that I do not require a zanpakuto! Just like you, who has become one with your zanpakuto and it's powers." He must be aware of this.

"No, I am now rising even higher than you, who has just lost that very power!" _I will reach a level even beyond this._

"This is the end, _Kurosaki Ichigo_!"

A sudden pain strikes me in the chest, a red spike shoots forth, soon followed by more identical ones forming a cross from my chest to my abdomen. I stumble in surprise, grasping at the sudden protrusions.

"What is this…?! Kidou...?! But when-?" Realization hit me.

"_Urahara Kisuke! He planted it inside one of the other spells!"_

I feel my power leaving me. Kurosaki's surprised expression tells me he wasn't expecting this either. "_Damn you, Urahara Kisuke! Why do you not act!? Why do you subjugate yourself __to that thing__!?"_

A second wave of pain hits me as the spikes grow in length, enough so to completely pierce through my body and protrude outwards like spears.

"_This cannot be! The Hogyoku is __is subservient to me__, there is no way a Kido__u__ like this could possibly__-__!"_ Suddenly, I feel the connection fade. "_What is happening!?" _The white layer of reiryoku covering my skin shatters like leaves. Kurosaki looks away, as if I he was beholding something tragic.

"_Such arrogance, how __**dare**__ he!? I cannot accept this, __**it cannot be!"**_

"The existence of the Spirit King is inexcusable! The only being worthy of replacing it is me!" He faces me again. Determination still fills his eyes, but no longer is he pretending to ignore my words.

As my powers drop to but a fraction of my true strength, I suddenly feel the process halting. The Hogyoku lights up, yet I can no longer sense its consciousness. Our link has seemingly faded entirely, why is it reacting? "_The sealing is halted, __yet__ I do not feel my powers returning. What is happening?" _Kurosaki is watching me suspiciously, seemingly as confused as I am, and on his guard.

Suddenly, I feel the ground disappear from beneath me. Some form of dimensional rift, similar to a Garganta, appears below my feet. The seal, and the Hogyoku seemingly ignoring me prevents me from amassing any amount reiryoku under my feet. I see Kurosaki's eyes widen before I fall into the space that the Hogyoku appears to have opened up. Was it meant to create a way for me to escape? I do not have time to answer that question as I feel the Hogyoku physically repelling itself from my chest, taking the little power it was feeding me with it. It must have been more than I realized, because without it, I feel my reiryoku drop so far that my consciousness begins to fade.

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**The First Town of Pieta.**

Despite being located in the snowy north, the last storm to pass through the city of Pieta was not one of snow and wind. Twenty awakened beings, the bulk of Isley of the North's forces, passed through this city mere hours ago, leaving 24 massacred warriors of the Organization in their wake. This specific event meant that there was no one left to witness the sudden crack in the air which appeared a few meters above ground in the eastern outskirts of the city, much less the unconscious individuals falling through it.

The first one landed merely inches to the right of a particularly large gathering of fallen warriors. In total, nine bodies lay scattered in the vicinity.

The _second_ body to fall through shortly before the rift closed itself, also unconscious, lands just meters to the left of the same area. The city once again fell silent except for the wind, but only for a minute. The first body that fell shortly lights up before a black sphere rises _through_ its chest and begins to move in the direction of a particular fallen warrior, whom happened to be one of the few who had simply been rendered unconscious.

After reaching its chosen target, it descended and smoothly entered itself into the chest of it's new target through the open scar on her torso, and began the merging process.

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**Edit, please read.**

A/N: This is the re-written first chapter. I felt the original version was of inexcusably low quality, and thus re-wrote it in preparation for the next chapter. (Which will be chapter 3.) While this version is also quite bad in my own opinion, it's not _as _bad.

Again, I apologize for the short length, but this is still merely the prologue that's needed to set up the rest of this story, and I found this to be the only decent place to cut it off at.

**Please Note****:** The cloaked guys in the first section are **not** OCs, just saying.


	2. Awakening

**A/N: Please read the A/N at the bottom of the chapter once you're done reading this chapter. It is important information for those who plan on continuing to read this story.**

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~ Chapter 2 ~

_ ~Awakening~_

Her consciousness was returning. Along with it came that mist which briefly clouds the mind shortly before one _actually_ wakes up. When Helen's eyes opened, the first emotions to surface were relief and joy over being alive. They wouldn't last, as they were soon replaced by fear and worry when the faces of her comrades came back to her. Who else had survived?

She sat up and looked around, half in panic. She could feel that her body was too injured to get up and search, so she instead called out for her missing friends.

"Miria, Clare, Deneve! Is anyone alive?" She felt a pain surging in her chest, forcing her voice to, against her own will (and uncharacteristically), keep to a fairly weak volume.

She heard no response except for the cold wind of the north. Calling a second time only to get the same results, she made herself stand up despite the horrible condition her body was in. Being an offensive warrior, her healing factor wasn't the best to begin with. While still far greater than a human's, she still needed to consciously focus on the task in order to heal anything beyond a bruise within a reasonable amount of time. Having been unconscious, the broken ribs, the missing right arm and the massive gash in her shoulder still remained.

It would seem she really did get lucky. The only reason she was still alive was that the blow which had crushed her ribs had been the one to send her unconscious. She had closed the wound where her right arm used to be before getting knocked out, and the gash in her shoulder was apparently not deep enough for her to bleed to death while unconscious. It was by sheer luck that the broken ribs hadn't pierced any vital organs.

As if that same luck had just run out, her legs gave in and she collapsed back down onto the snowy ground where she started.

After coming to the realization of just how lucky she had really been, the odds of her closest comrades having survived as well hit her with enough force to break her ribs all over again, causing her eyes to widen in denial for a few seconds. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it, and started to try and heal herself at least to the point where she could walk without risking to kill herself.

"_Shit, don't you dare have died on me Deneve! That goes for you too Clare, Miria!" _

Despite focusing on the task she found that, in her current state, regenerating _at all _was far more difficult than before due to the effects of the suppressant pill. If she pushed too much, her Yoki would come rushing back and light her up like a forest fire to both the organization and whatever awakened beings were left in the area. What should have been a few minutes to recover from most of her wounds became an agonizing quarter of an hour just healing the worst of it. 15 minutes was all she could tolerate before standing up on legs that shook enough to clearly indicate her impatience. She didn't care though, as finding the others was far more important at the moment.

"OI! DENEVE, CLARE, MIRIA, ARE YOU ALIVE?" Now that her lungs no longer risked being pierced by her ribs, this shout held more power than the first attempts had. Though, just like her first tries, this too yielded no response. Real fear struck her at the thought that she could feasibly be the only survivor. If that was the case, what would she do?

Training by herself in the mountains? A lot of the warriors were loners by nature, but even the most extreme of them felt solidarity with the other warriors to a certain degree.

She herself just so happened to be probably the most social one of them to ever be trained.

Spending possibly decades on training in the cold north, to what end? Hope to one day defeat The Organization by herself? A simple chance at revenge? These thoughts shot through her mind until a voice brought her more relief than she had ever before experienced.

"Helen, is that you?" The wind calmed a bit, and the voice which she could identify as that of her closest friend penetrated the snow-filled air and reached her ears.

"Deneve! Where are you!?" Her voice sounded more desperate than either of them could perceive at the moment.

"If you are where I think you are, keep going down the street and you will reach us."

She turned in the direction that she had been sent flying from and, with revived motivation, backtracked her way to where she and the other 5 last warriors had made their stand. Now she knew that at least _Deneve _had survived. No, she said "us", so there's at least one more. The sole reason she did not sprint the distance was that she might actually fall unconscious again from that kind of strain in her current state.

The "street" around her was more like rubble at this point. In fact, despite having gazed in every direction, she could see only a single house with a roof still standing. Granted, the "roof" was actually the floor of the now non-existent second level of the building, it still appeared to be the only building in the whole city that could still be considered remotely intact. That information though, was only gathered subconsciously, as the conscious part of her mind was keeping focus on closing the distance between herself and her fellow survivors.

Reaching her destination brought both joy and sorrow. She saw Deneve standing up, and Miria laying at her feet, seemingly having just been put there by the former. Slightly to the right of them, Clare was laying immobile. Besides that, there were 2 warriors sitting right next to them. She thought she saw the corpses of 6 other warriors spread out in the relatively small area.

At least, she hoped it was just 6. Clare and Miria weren't moving. With hesitation and dread, she asked the most urgent question, and prepared herself for the worst answer.

"O-oi Deneve, are they…?" Her heart sank, and her expression tensed at the loaded inquiry.

"Miria is alive, she just hasn't woken up yet, and Clare is…" There was hesitation in Deneve's voice. Confusion, which alarmed her long-time friend that something was off. Helen gulped in preparation for the inevitable continuation.

"…Is what?"

"Alive. But…" She shook her head as if to clear it, and then continued. "We'll talk about it later. Right now we need to focus on recovering."

Helen breathed out in relief, and her expression softened as her worries for the most part subsided. She had thought that the relief she felt earlier was the greatest in her life, but what she felt right now after learning for certain that her closest comrades were alive could rival it at the very least.

Redirecting her gaze towards the two wounded comrades who were sitting nearby, she struggled to remember their names and ranks. Was she the last survivor to get here?

"Are we all who survived?" A nod from Deneve told her that she was right. Her reply would only come to confirm it.

"I woke up first, so I went around and searched for others. Clare and Miria are the only survivors I found outside of those already here, the others were dead. I was just about to go look for you when you shouted." Having known Deneve for so long enabled her to hear the slight differences in her voice that gave away how tough and emotionally challenging it must have been to walk around and confirm the deaths of their comrades. Knowing there was little she could respond with, Helen instead turned back towards the 2 other survivors. The first, she recalled, used to have her hair in two braids over her chest. One of them was missing, she noticed, and the remaining one had loosened to the point where it could untangle at any second. The other survivor had just one braid, which had survived without much battle damage, over her right shoulder.

Aside from a number of relatively superficial injuries, they both seemed to be far better off than she herself was. They had all of their limbs left and no open wounds. Their injuries had probably been mostly internal, she reasoned, and seemingly not directly lethal to begin with.

"You're… Cynthia, right? Number 14?" A weak nod from the one missing her left hair-braid confirmed the vague memory of a name, though it didn't help in remembering the other. Having forgotten who her second comrade was made her feel sheepish. Turning to the comrade in question, she gave an apologetic grin and unashamedly asked;

"Ah, sorry, I don't remember your name. Could you…?"

It was difficult to tell whether or not the unnamed warrior had taken offense. Her expression was fairly solid to begin with, and didn't seem to change much as she spoke.

"Tabitha, number 31."

Her expressions gave little hint, but her voice sent a definite "I take offense to that" vibe.

"Right. Sorry." A subdued response and a smile was probably the best way to answer to that. Funny how easy it was to get embarrassed despite the situation.

"It's alright, my rank is fairly low. It's understandable that you wouldn't remember." She didn't sound very surprised, so she was probably used to being dismissed by the higher ranking warriors. Not wanting this "new" comrade to have a bad image of her, Helen quickly tried to correct the misunderstanding.

"It's not because of that. I really did try to remember everyone; I'm just bad with names, that's all."

Tabitha's eyebrows rose at the friendly grin that Helen was now sporting. Helen herself decided to take that as a sign that she'd gotten her intent across. Good.

"Do you remember my name or rank?"

Helen jumped slightly as the "corpse" next to Cynthia spoke up tiredly. Judging by everyone else's _lack_ of reaction, it would seem that she was the only one who hadn't known that the "corpse" was a survivor. She seemed to be the one who was worst off, even worse than Helen herself had been, which (incidentally) was the main reason she had thought the laying comrade to be dead to begin with.

It seemed like the main reason she was laying down was that she was simply too injured to sit up. She was probably a big part of why Deneve had decided for them to gather up at this specific spot, Helen realized. Since she was awake, she should be slowly healing herself, so her injuries had probably been even worse before, probably too serious for her to be moved.

After a somewhat awkward silence on Helen's part, she regained her ability to speak.

"…It begins with a U, right? You're the one who lost your arm in the first fight." A sigh from Deneve told her she'd just made a fool of herself. Again.

"It's Yuma, number 40. Yes I was, and no, you don't need to worry about it." She gave a slight smile, a sign (which Helen missed) that her question was intended as mischief, before closing her eyes again, presumably to resume healing herself as Helen just sighed in defeat and her shoulders slumped (Something that reminded her that she was still missing an arm herself) with the awkwardness of having just made herself seem like a prick.

"Idiot. You didn't even notice she was alive, did you?" Deneve was as blunt – and deadpan - as always it would seem. Knowing that everyone present already knew the claim to be true, Helen chose not to retort since it would probably just dig her hole deeper. She instead turned back to the 2 people she had now relearned the names of with a slightly dejected smile.

"Really, I am sorry."

Yuma had already made it clear that she held no grudge, so Tabitha was the only one who felt the need to answer.

"It's fine, really." This time, there was genuine sincerity in her voice, and Helen breathed out in relief.

Though it would appear that the act of interrupting her relief was going to be a common occurrence on this particular day, as Miria stirred back into consciousness, drawing the attention of everyone present.

"Taichõ/Nee-san!" Was the unified and verbal reaction, the former coming from Tabatha and the latter from Helen. The first sight to greet Miria's eyes as they opened was that of Deneve towering over her laying form. The first words to leave her mouth voiced that sight, with all the grogginess that came with waking up.

"…Deneve?"

Not being the talkative type, the woman in question simply nodded in response, and kneeled down to offer their injured leader aid in sitting up. Doing so by herself might have become problematic with that large gash running from her left hip and across her stomach to the right side of her ribs, ending just below her breast. It looked fairly superficial, despite the size.

"Thank you." Her voice was stronger this time, the grogginess of her awakening quickly wearing off. Her eyes closed as she attempted to regain her bearings. After having seemingly composed herself, she spoke again. "…Do you know how many survived…?"

The reply was short and stern.

"All of the survivors are here. Clare is the only one who hasn't woken up yet."

A silence followed, and the captain brought a hand to her face to cover her eyes.

"How many?" The atmosphere was suddenly tense, and becoming more so by the second. Another silence ensued, and while everyone present besides Clare was fully capable of speaking up, it seemed crucial that Deneve be the one to answer. She, being the most straight-forward of them, didn't as much as _try_ to conceal her intent.

"Open your eyes and see for yourse-" She was interrupted by Miria showing more emotion in her voice than any of the people present had ever before heard from her.

"_**Deneve.**_" Her tone was desperate, and almost begging. Almost.

Deneve's eyes widened marginally, a sign of surprise that, out of everyone present, only Helen was familiar enough with to notice. The stoic warrior aimed a serious look at the still unseeing captain and seemed to ponder over whether or not to reply before closing her eyes again and sighing inwardly.

"7."

At this revelation, Miria's eyes opened again and, for the first time since waking up, turned its gaze in the direction of her fellow survivors. Though, all she saw before guilt closed them once more was a glimpse of Helen.

"…**7**? There were so many of us… and still only 7?" Never before had anyone present witnessed their captain's tears, and never before had they seen her vulnerable. "There were 24 of us, and this is all I could do? Couldn't I save any more? _Was this truly the best I could do?_" Not since Hilda's death had she experienced such frustration and grief.

Seeing their captain's desperation, a single communicative glance from Deneve held all the instructions Helene needed. She, like Deneve had done, kneeled down next to the crying Miria and helped her stand upright, though the captain had to lean on her shoulder in order to remain in said position. Miria's eyes widened slightly in confusion, and the hand which had covered her face instead dropped to her side.

"…Helen?"

Deneve locked a serious gaze with her captain's confused one.

"Look, Miria. Here are the lives you saved." _Now _was the first time that her gaze truly met those of the other survivors, and she saw no blame in them. What she saw instead was worry. Concern for her well-being, empathy towards her feelings and most strikingly, relief at her survival. Her tears had not stopped, and they most certainly did not do so now. Deneve straightened up from her kneeling position on the ground and spoke again.

"We are only alive right now because of you. You saved our lives in a situation where we would otherwise have lost them for certain. No one blames you for those who died. You brought us a miracle, Miria."

It took several seconds for her mind to truly process that information. When it did, the arm that had fallen to her side once again came up to meet with the flow of tears that was now receding. The former number 6 of The Organization now felt, for the first time since Hilda's awakened hunt, emotionally overwhelmed, only this time there was joy mixed with the pain.

"…_Thank you. All of you." _Relief was the common emotion to surge through the gathered warriors. Tabatha and Cynthia sat back to continue resting, while Yuma again closed her eyes to resume healing herself.

A minute passed before she wiped away the last of her tears and straightened up as much as her body allowed her to, once again gaining the unified and full attention of everyone present.

"What do we do now Nee-san?"

She took a few more seconds to collect herself as much as possible before answering.

"The cold here will slow down out healing factor, so we need to find a place to take shelter until we've recovered. We can figure out the details for after that when we rest up." Her glance fell on the most wounded of them, Yuma. "Can you walk or stand yet?"

The warrior in question nodded in response. "Walking is probably my limit, but yes."

The verbal exchange was interrupted by Deneve.

"Before that, we have an issue to take care of. Two, in fact."

Miria raised an eyebrow at the comment, unable to conclude what she was referring to.

"It's Clare." Deneve continued. This drew the captain's gaze to the only survivor who had yet to wake up.

"Besides being unconscious, I don't see anything wrong with her."

"Look at her chest, right in the center."

Miria's eyes widened in both surprise and confusion. There was a faint, blue glow emanating from the center of Clare's chest, just to the left of her heart. The most confusing part was that it didn't come from her skin. It looked as if there was something embedded deep inside of her that was glowing _though _her flesh, as if it was some form of darkened glass and not solid organic tissue.

Helen was the first one to speak her mind about it.

"What the hell is that?"

"I have no idea. She was like this when I found her, but that's not the only thing that's weird. Look at her again." The gathered survivors did as instructed, but did not catch on to what she was referring to. "There's not even the slightest scratch on her." She elaborated.

Now that it had been pointed out, the revelation did strike them as strange. Her healing factor was average at best. There was no way that she'd completely healed herself in this amount of time while being both under the suppressant pill _and _unconscious, so how was she in perfect condition?

"Which also raises the question: If she's fully healed, why isn't she waking up?" Deneve asked.

Miria pondered over what to do in their current scenario. She came to the conclusion that the most urgent matters would need to be attended to first.

"In any case, there's not much we can do about that here. We'll find a shelter and carry her with us, then we can try to figure out what to do from there."

A sudden memory surfaced made itself known in Helen's mind.

"Oh! I saw a place on my way here. The building's mostly destroyed, but it looked like there was a room still standing. We could rest up in there!" It felt good to be loud again.

The captain thought their situation through and decided it was a solid plan. In fact, it worked out perfectly.

"We'll have to carry Clare, and we need to start recovering as soon as possible. A place so close to us would be ideal." She turned her gaze in the direction of their most injured comrade. "Yuma probably can't walk very far either."

"Sorry." An apology was not the expected reaction. In fact, it was a reaction that did not sit well with the warriors present, least of all the captain.

"There is nothing to apologize for, Yuma." The former number 40 seemed surprised for a few seconds before cracking a sheepish grin, despite her condition.

"…Sorry." This earned her a loud laugh from Helen and a sigh from Deneve.

The moment ended though, with Tabatha pointing out a forgotten topic.

"What's the second problem then?"

Miria's gaze turned back to Deneve at this reminder.

"Right, there was another problem wasn't there?"

Deneve's hand came up to her shoulder, and an outstretched thumb pointed to the direction in which her back was facing.

"There are 2 humans lying unconscious in the snow over there." This information earned the full attention of those present whom were conscious at the time.

"That's impossible!" Came an outburst from Helen. "There's no way humans could have survived here!"

"Helen's right." Miria chipped in. "If they weren't evacuated before the battle, there's no way they could have _survived_ it. Even if they got here afterwards, supposing they by some miracle weren't sniffed out by any Awakened Beings, there'd be nothing here to knock them out."

"No matter what, they should either be dead or fully conscious." Tabatha offered her two cents. "Even when we warriors prepared specifically to make that happen, less than a third of us managed it, and that was because of a brilliant leader and a miracle. That's disregarding the fact that Awakened Beings care little for Warriors, but love the taste and smell of humans."

Trying to ignore the casually dropped compliment for now, Miria once again found herself having to ponder over the plan for their next step. This was the first time she'd had to rethink her plan thrice over in less than ten minutes.

"Yet there they are." Deneve retorted monotonously. Miria again turned her gaze towards Deneve.

"Are you sure they're not just awakened beings trying to hide or trick us?" Miria asked.

"I couldn't sense even the slightest trace of yoki from them."

" The pills are partially suppressing our yoki-sensing abilities, and they could be suppressing _their own_ yoki?" Helen inquired, being characteristically loud while doing so.

"I sat right next to them and scanned them thoroughly specifically because of those reasons. Still, not a trace. Also, I doubt Awakened Beings can suppress their yoki while they themselves are unconscious, and I'd still be able to sense it from that small distance even if they could." This at least eliminated the possibility of them being Awakened, though it didn't answer much else. "I can't find anything that points to them being anything other than humans."

As Helen stood at a loss for ideas, Miria took another minute to plan things out. Fourth time, it would seem. She subconsciously wondered if she'd end up getting past five.

"Alright." And 4 gazes turned to her once again. The fifth one figured that there was no longer much point in interrupting her regeneration in favor of locking eyes with whoever spoke, since it was obvious she'd never get done if these interruptions continued to be so frequent.

"We can't just let them freeze to death out here. We'll bring them with us to that "Building" that Helen talked about and let them recover a bit. If they wake up before we leave, we ask them to forget about us and then leave whenever we're ready. If we're good to go before then, we'll leave them there and they should be fine by themselves whenever they wake up, as long as they're out of the cold." A quick look around showed no objections, and a nod from Deneve confirmed a unified agreement.

"I'll go pick one of them up." Deneve voiced, waiting for a second volunteer.

"I'll take the other one. Besides you, I've healed the most of us." Cynthia added quickly while standing up. After getting a nod of approval from the stoic former number 14, they both took off towards the mysterious survivors, who luckily weren't lying too far away.

"I think I can walk on my own now. Thanks for the help, Helen." Miria spoke up, gratefully thanking her substitute crutch for the aid.

"You sure, taichõ?"

A short pause was spent on searching herself.

"…Yes."

"Alright." The glutton stepped away from the leader of the group, first making sure whether or not said leader would fall over because of it. Luckily, she did not. "I won't have to carry you there then!" That sounded an awful lot like relief, be it faked or not.

"Instead, you can carry Clare."

"God damn it!"

Due to their positioning, Tabatha alone was in the right place to be able to catch the hint of a smirk on their captain's lips. Despite the complaint, the now significantly-less-happy glutton of the group bent down and picked up their unconscious comrade, and slung said comrade over her shoulder, just in time for Deneve and Cynthia to return with the humans carried in the very same manner.

"I've never seen clothes like this before. They don't seem very suited for the cold." Cynthia spoke up, referring to the man slung over her right shoulder, who oddly enough seemed to be dressed in some form of damaged white clothing, the thickness of which would seem to be made for considerably warmer weather.

"This guy isn't much better. He's got 2 layers, but they're thin too, and it's almost more torn than the other guy's. I have no idea how or why they would even be in the North like this." Deneve continued.

"We'll figure things out later. First, we follow Helen and rest up." Miria quickly pointed out, getting an agreeing nod from Deneve and a "yes" from Cynthia.

Glancing in the direction of the remaining 2 survivors told Miria that Yuma and Tabatha were up and ready to head out.

"Alright, Helen lead the way." And so she did. For about ten feet before stopping due to their captain nearly faceplanting the snow, if not for a very quick reaction from Tabatha.

"I thought you said you'd be fine, Nee-san!" Helen half-shouted worriedly in their direction. A short silence followed before the response came.

"…I thought I was." She felt a bit embarrassed at her own lack of judgement, and for having to rely on someone else because of it.

"You shouldn't overexert yourself, taichõ. Here, lean on my shoulder until we get there." She had not pinned Tabatha as the caring kind, thus this obvious display of worry came as a slight surprise. Ordinarily, she would have refused, but she knew that her current state would hardly stand for that, and so she instead accepted her situation.

"Thank you." Her new crutch substitute merely gave an affirmative nod and began walking with her captain's arm slung supportively over her shoulder.

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**A/N: **

I'm apologizing for the long Author's Note that follows, but please read it. It's long because there is some stuff that I need to inform you readers of as soon as possible. Rest assured that future A/N's will not be nearly this big. This is a special case.

If you **ever** see something that seems really out of character, please inform me. I get really paranoid about that sort of stuff, and I really want to try and stick relatively close to the originals.

So… that's chapter two. This chapter took a long time to write for a few reasons. Reasons that are also relevant for future chapters. So here's the thing:

I have a certain overall plot planned out here. The thing is, for it to work, I need to basically formulate the majority of this story entirely in my head before I actually start writing out chapters, otherwise I'll probably end up with a decent amount of plot-holes. Not going to spoil anything, but at least for the moment, that means I'll even have to draw up some layouts, and read up on a lot of characters. For this reason, writing for this may be really slow, because there is a **lot** to consider every time I sit down to write.

I'm sorry there's not that much happening here, but there is a legit reason that I cut this chapter of right here. Next chapter will almost **definitely** have a massive plot-twist. It's the twist which will set up basically the entire basic premise of the story, and it's going to mean a **lot** of work on my part, and a **lot** of reading. Not going to say much more, but let's just say that once you read it, you will probably realize why it's so hard to plan out this story and, by extension, why writing for it will take so much time.

...And it's christmas. That kind of slows things down too...

Also, know that reviews are a **massive** influence on me. They are what motivate me to keep writing when I hit a boulder, and they greatly speed up the process of writing. I am grateful to everyone who reviews!

I think that's it for now. Thank you to everyone who reads this, and please have patience with this mere mortal!

…And yes. Cynthia carrying **Aizen F**king Sousuke **unconscious and slung over her shoulder is god damn hilarious to imagine.


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